Holy Smoak
by MegEl
Summary: While investigating a strip club with ties to the mob, Felicity goes undercover as a waitress. But when one of the dancers can't make it into work due to a sick kid, Felicity's forced to go onstage in her place.
1. The Windgate Club

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters, nor am I in any way affiliated with the show or with DC Comics. This story is purely for entertainment purposes.

* * *

"Come on out, Felicity," Oliver called through the bathroom door. "You're supposed to be at the club in half an hour."

"I look ridiculous!" she insisted.

"I'm sure that's not true," he tried to reassure her.

"Hah!" was her skeptical reply.

"Felicity," Diggle tried, "we need you for this mission. You're the only one who can get close enough to get us the intel we need."

There was silence as she seemed to ponder that.

"Alright..." she finally agreed, before quickly warning, "But the first one to laugh gets it."

Reluctantly, she stepped out into Team Arrow headquarters, and was rewarded, not with laughs or even smirks, but with wide eyes and open mouths as they took in her attire. She wore a black pleather corset that pushed her breasts up dramatically, a matching mini-skirt that left little to the imagination, black pleather gloves that went just past her elbows, and high-heeled boots that went to her knees. She also wore a black leather choker, and her blond hair was up in a high ponytail. Her usual thick-rimmed glasses were gone for the night in favor of contacts and black eyeliner.

"Wow," was all Oliver could say. He felt like someone had knocked the wind out of him.

"Yeah," Diggle agreed, though not quite as breathless.

Clearing his throat, Oliver added, "You look..."

As he searched for a word appropriate enough, she went ahead and finished, "Ridiculous, right?"

"Actually, I was going to say...good. You look good."

"Really? You don't think it's too... revealing?"

Rather than answer, he looked at his watch and exclaimed, "Wow, will you look at the time! We've got to get going, or you'll be late for your first day!"

The 'first day' he referred to was that of her 'new job' as a waitress at the Windgate Club, a private gentleman's club they were investigating due to possible ties to the mob. While Oliver himself had never been there, he did know a senator who was gracious enough to lend him his membership card, especially in exchange for his silence regarding the senator's mistress, who was a dancer there.

As they went to leave, Oliver stopped and, with a mischievous glint in his eye, gestured for Felicity to go first.

"After you, Mistress Felicity," he teased. Beside him, Diggle tried to suppress a chuckle.

She narrowed her eyes, and replied, "You are so lucky this outfit doesn't come with a whip."

...

After parking around the block from the club, Oliver and Diggle gave Felicity an earpiece, with the assurance that they'd be there for her should she need backup. They let her go in first, then waited a couple of minutes before following. Flashing the senator's membership card, Oliver and Diggle posed as patrons, both sporting suits since the dress code was a bit more formal than your average strip club.

As Diggle went to sit at the bar to see what he could find out, Oliver took a seat at one of the small round tables that surrounded the main stage. As he did so, he glanced around the room, noticing that all the waitresses wore provocative costumes. One passed him dressed as a sexy nurse, while another passed in the other direction dressed as a Playboy bunny, winking flirtatiously at Oliver as she did so. By the time he turned his head to face forward, he was surprised and even a little bit startled to see Felicity standing there all of a sudden.

"Hey there, cutie," she said, trying to act flirty. "What can I get you?"

He asked what she was able to find out so far, and she replied that she hadn't been able to find out anything yet. At least, anything useful. As they talked, they realized that a man, presumably the club owner, was watching them suspiciously, so Felicity quickly took Oliver's drink order and headed for the bar.

As she passed on the drink order to the bartender and waited on him to fill it, she and Diggle discreetly shared a look out of the corners of their eyes. Then, just as the bartender finished pouring Oliver's drink and placed it on a tray, the club owner approached Felicity.

"Hey. You. New girl," he greeted her gruffly.

She worried for a moment that he had put two and two together after seeing her and Oliver talking, but then relaxed a bit when the next words out of his mouth were, "You dance?"

She was a bit confused as to what relevance that had, but nonetheless replied, "Yes. Sometimes."

"Felicity, no!" Oliver hissed in her ear. "He means _exotic_ dancing. He's asking if you know how to strip!"

"Good," the owner told her before she could take back what she'd said. He explained, "One of our dancers just called to say she has a sick kid and can't get a babysitter. So, you're on in ten minutes."

"Wait! What?!" she exclaimed, but the owner was already walking away.

"You can use her costume," he added over his shoulder.

...

Eight minutes later, she had changed into the absent dancer's costume, a sexy sailor number, and had changed into a red version of the high-heeled boots she had just been wearing. Her hair had been taken out of the ponytail and instead, put up in a messy bun, and she had just finished putting on some red lipstick.

"How do I get myself into these things?" she asked miserably as she sat at a dressing table, one of many that were situated backstage.

"It's a gift," Diggle replied via her earpiece.

"More like a curse," she shot back.

"Felicity, it'll be fine," Oliver assured her smoothly, also via the earpiece. "Just...pretend you're at home dancing by yourself and just let go."

"You have clearly never seen me dance," she scoffed.

"But looks like we're about to," Diggle pointed out, after some burly guy stopped by to inform her that she was on in two minutes.

She quickly put on a cap that came with the costume and grabbed some aviator sunglasses, then went to wait in the wings. Finding that she could discreetly watch the current dancer onstage, a cowgirl named Dixie who was swaying wildly to "All Jacked Up" by Gretchen Wilson, Felicity tried to pick up some moves. But before she knew it, Dixie was returning backstage, and it was her turn.

"Guys, I don't think I can do this," she told her teammates nervously.

"It's okay. Relax," was Diggle's big advice. "Try to channel your inner Demi Moore."

"Demi Moore, right, got it. Wait, I never saw that movie!"

Regardless, she quickly put on the sunglasses and forced herself to step out on stage, just as an announcer finished introducing her as "all-American girl" Amber Waves.

_Well, there are worse stripper names_, she thought to herself.

As "Don't Cha" by Pussycat Dolls started playing, Felicity somewhat awkwardly began stripping, starting with the top part of her costume, underneath which was a red-white-and-blue sequined bikini top. She could almost swear she heard one of the guys, either Oliver or Diggle, gulp audibly, but didn't have time to worry about it. Instead, she took off the bottom part of the outfit, a navy-blue mini-skirt, revealing sequined hot pants that also bore a patriotic theme.

_Did it suddenly get warm in here?_ Oliver thought, adjusting his tie.

Then, losing the hat and sunglasses, she took her hair down and shook it loose, inadvertently locking eyes with Oliver as she did so. Inadvertent or not, though, she never took her eyes off of him, nor he her, as something seemed to take hold of her and her inhibitions were suddenly stripped away. For him.

As she moved seductively in time with the music, it seemed as though she danced just for him. That thought even occurred to him, but it barely registered as the blood rushed away from his brain to start to pool elsewhere. The way she moved, the way the top conformed to her breasts, the way the shorts hugged her hips, the way she bit those ruby red lips as she danced... He was entranced.

Finally, the song ended, and the spell was broken. She looked around as patrons applauded, suddenly self-conscious again. As she headed backstage, Oliver took a deep breath to get himself in check. He only vaguely heard Diggle mutter appreciatively, "God bless America."

...

"I don't believe I've ever seen you here before, Mr. Queen," the owner greeted the man in question. He wasn't angry, though; in fact, he was downright sycophantic.

"Actually, I'm a guest of Senator Jennings's," he replied. Indicating Diggle at the bar, he added, "As is my bodyguard, of course."

"Of course. And will Senator Jennings be joining you this evening?"

"No, it's just me. Though, I got to say, I'm certainly enjoying the entertainment. Any chance I can get a minute alone with that Miss America chick that was just onstage?"

Diggle smiled at that description. He knew Oliver was just playing up his playboy reputation, but also knew that Felicity could still hear every word they said. And with that in mind, he couldn't wait to see how Felicity was going to make Oliver pay for that comment. Hence, the smile.

"Certainly, Mr. Queen." The owner got the attention of the sexy nurse, and instructed her to take Mr. Queen into one of the back rooms.

"Right this way, Mr. Queen," she said, only too happy to oblige.

He followed her to the back, which contained several private rooms where patrons could enjoy a lap dance from the dancer of their choice. In place of a door, each of these rooms had a red velvet curtain for privacy, and above each curtain was a number. The nurse indicated one velvet door in particular, and smiled flirtatiously as she told him, "Here you are, Mr. Queen."

Before she left him to wait by himself, she reminded him that he wasn't allowed to touch — though he doubted that that rule was ever enforced much, if at all — and informed him that there were cameras in each room.

Inside the room itself, he found wall-to-wall leather benches, which could easily sit five or six guys (not there ever were that many guys in one room at any one time). Glancing up, he did indeed see a security camera in one corner of the room.

_Probably used more for voyeurism and/or blackmail than security_, he thought cynically.

He took a seat, though, and almost as soon as he did, Felicity entered, still in the stars-and-stripes. Judging by the forced smile on her lips and the angry glint in her eye, she had heard every word he'd said to the owner.

"Fe — " He stopped himself from calling her by name, remembering the camera.

Without a word, she closed the distance between them, and immediately straddled him, much to his surprise. Leaning in close, she assured him that she'd already checked and the camera didn't transmit audio, so they could talk freely.

"That's good to know," he replied, very much aware of how close her breasts were to his own chest. He fought the urge to look down.

In the interest of keeping her cover, she gyrated on his pelvis, causing Oliver's eyes to go wide and his jaw to set as his blood once more rushed south of the border. She then slid down his torso to the floor, and his eyes closed of their own volition. After slowly slithering her way back up his body, conscious of every one of his muscles tensing underneath her, she informed him, "That's for referring to me as a 'chick'."

"Felicity," he growled.

She looked at him, surprised. His tone was partly angry, but it was also tinged with...arousal. Then again, she shouldn't have been so surprised, considering what was poking her through her sequined shorts. She gulped visibly, and his demeanor softened as he mistook her reaction for fear.

"So, what'd you find out?" he asked, getting them back on track.

Rather than answer, she got up, turned around, and then situated herself back in his lap. As she leaned back against his shoulder, gyrating some more on his pelvis, she finally filled him and Diggle in on the information she'd managed to uncover backstage.

"Looks like that stripper with the sick kid was a blessing in disguise," she remarked once she'd finished sharing. "I mean, obviously, not for her and her kid. But it was lucky for us because it got me backstage. Though, I'm not too thrilled about having to take my clothes off for you."

Realizing what she'd just said, she quickly amended, "I mean, not that any woman wouldn't want to take their clothes off for you. I just mean, I wasn't stripping _just_ for you. I mean..."

"Felicity," Oliver said, stopping her babbling before she really got going.

"Thank you."

"Uh, guys," Diggle interjected, "assuming Lady Luck was with us earlier, she's definitely not now."

"What makes you say that?" Felicity asked.

"Because a bunch of cops just arrived to raid this place, led by none other than Detective Lance."

Though he'd been demoted recently, Quentin Lance would always be 'Detective Lance' to Team Arrow.

The identical looks Oliver and Felicity exchanged said it all, but they still felt the need to voice their concern.

"Oh..." Felicity began.

"...shit!" Oliver concluded.

* * *

A/N: If y'all enjoyed this story, y'all should go read "Jade" by **LoudVoice**, from which I took a bit of inspiration (though I couldn't help but make this into a bit of a homage to the _Smallville_ episode "Exposed"; in fact, I even debated on whether or not to include a human trafficking storyline, but eventually decided against it).


	2. Oliver's Dream

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters, nor am I in any way affiliated with the show or with DC Comics. This story is purely for entertainment purposes.

A/N: Thank you to all who followed, favorited, and/or took the time to review. :)

A/N #2: This was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but I just couldn't help myself and decided to combine ideas I had for other one-shots into one continuous story. This chapter is one such idea.

* * *

Later that night, Oliver, clad only in dark green plaid pajama pants, climbed into bed, only too eager to put the events of that night behind him.

It was only after much convincing that Detective Lance had let him and his friends go. Felicity had given the former detective a partial truth: she and the Arrow were investigating the club because of possible ties to the mob. However, to explain Oliver and Diggle's presence there, she'd had to fudge the truth a bit. Okay, a lot. She'd claimed that her boss had coincidentally come to the club to unwind, having heard about it from one of his higher-up friends, and had obviously brought along his bodyguard for protection. While Detective Lance wasn't happy that the Arrow had sent Felicity undercover like that, potentially putting her in harm's way, he'd accepted her story and reluctantly let the trio go.

Now, as sleep quickly claimed Oliver, his dreams were plagued with images of Felicity, with memories from earlier that night. More specifically, memories of her dancing onstage just for him, of her writhing against him once they were finally alone. All the while she'd been in his lap, he'd wanted nothing more than to touch her, to desperately make her his. In fact, his mind insisted on taking the memories one step further.

_In his dream, he did touch her. He wrapped his arms around her, and crashed his lips upon hers in a kiss that was hungry and urgent yet gentle and loving at the same time._

_At some point during the kiss, their clothes had vanished, allowing his hands to better move over her in a selfish lover's caress. When he went to lay her down and cover her body with his, she landed, not on the cold leather bench of the club's sleazy back room, but on his soft, warm bed, which he knew to be clean despite the sheets being mussed._

_Using his hands and mouth, he explored every inch of her, wanting to savor the way his senses were filled with only her. The way her scent filled his nostrils, the way her skin felt beneath his touch, the way she tasted on his tongue, the way she looked tilting her head back in ecstasy, and even the way she whispered his name as she reached her peak time and again._

_Finally, when she was ready, he buried himself to the hilt, her center gladly receiving him. At first, he moved slowly and tenderly, wanting the moment to last forever, but eventually picked up the pace at her urging. Before long, she had achieved one final orgasm, her inner walls clenching him insistently, and he knew he wasn't far behind._

However, before he would've flooded her with his seed, he awoke with a start, immediately jolting upright in bed, breathing hard and covered in sweat. He briefly wondered why he was having such an erotic (his mind kept insisting on using the word 'wonderful') dream about someone he considered only a friend and nothing more, before he realized that the dream had had a very physical, very noticeable impact on him. So, getting up, he headed for the bathroom to take care of it.

For some reason, images of Felicity persisted. Not just the memories from the club, but flashes of his very vivid dream as well. After a frustrated moment of trying to push the images back and think of anyone else but her, he finally figured, _Screw it_, and just let the images push themselves to the forefront.

As he closed his eyes and thought of Felicity, everything came rushing back all at once and his senses were once again in overdrive. He could smell and taste her again, could see the way she writhed beneath him in ecstasy, could hear his name tumbling from her lips time and again as he brought her to the brink. He even remembered so vividly the sensation of filling her so completely that it was hard to tell where she ended and he began.

"Oh... Felicity..." he moaned, finally shuddering his release.

Afterwards, he was surprised at himself for having called out his friend's name in the heat of the moment, but the fact of the matter was, he had and nothing could be done about it. Thankfully, though, no one had heard, and so, with a push of the handle, he sent potential future generations swirling away and went back to bed. Mercifully, the rest of the night was spent in a dreamless sleep.


	3. Felicity's Dream

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters, nor am I in any way affiliated with the show or with DC Comics. This story is purely for entertainment purposes.

A/N: Once again, thank you to all who followed, favorited, and/or took the time to review. :)

A/N #2: In the interest of visualization, I imagine Felicity's dress looking something like this: image***dot***dhgate***dot***com/albu_346257794_00-1***dot***0x0/spring-green-cocktail-dresses-sexy-mini-2013***dot***jpg

* * *

Unbeknownst to Oliver, he wasn't the only one affected by Felicity's lap dance. At the same time that he had been dreaming of her, she in turn had been dreaming of him...

_She found herself once again in the back room of the Windgate, straddling Oliver. As the dream played itself out, so too did her lap dance. She again gyrated on him...slid down his body...slowly slithered her way back up. Only this time, her annoyance at his remark was gone, instead replaced with a small sense of pride at being the cause of his apparent arousal. And when he growled her name, it was with desire and even...love._

_"I want you, Felicity. I need you. Now." His voice was barely above a whisper._

_Resting a hand on her lower back, he buried the other one in her hair as he kissed her in a way that could only be described as the kiss to end all kisses. Felicity could even swear she heard fireworks going off in the distance as she wrapped her arms around him, gladly surrendering to him.  
_

_When finally he pulled away, he looked at her longingly for a moment, then, in one fluid motion, grabbed her by the ass, stood, and wrapped her legs around his waist, his eyes never leaving hers all the while.  
_

_Suddenly, the scene shifted until they were in the ArrowCave, though Felicity hardly noticed. When Oliver went to set her down, it was on top of her desk, and that's when she realized that she was now in a sparkly green cocktail dress, rather than the bikini top and hot pants she'd worn at the club (and that she had gone home in without thinking!). And though she didn't have a mirror in front of her, she instinctively knew that her makeup now matched the dress._

_"You are so beautiful," he told her, reverently yet with a smoldering passion. Brushing a lock of hair out of her face, he added, "Not to mention, smart, and funny, and caring. I've been wasting my time pining after Laurel. Since I've been back from the island, there's only been you. I see that now."_

_She smiled, blushing a little, as she replied, "You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that."  
_

_He then returned his lips to hers, and even though this kiss couldn't hold a candle to the previous one, it was still pretty steamy, in Felicity's humble opinion. As they kissed, his hands worked on tugging her dress down, and she gladly helped him, until she could feel the cloth of his shirt against her bare breasts. While he cupped one such exposed breast, teasing the nipple with his fingers as he did so, his lips trailed down to her neck and shoulders, kissing and sucking and nipping ever-so-slightly as they went along._

_While she enjoyed the delicious things he was doing with his mouth, his hands dropped to her thighs, and steadily began inching the hem of her dress higher and higher. When he'd gotten her dress bunched up at her hips, his lips moved to lavish attention on her breasts, while one hand slipped into her panties and found her already wet for him. Hooking a couple of fingers inside her, he began rubbing her at a slow, tortuous pace, enjoying the moans she let loose as she eventually shattered into a million tiny pieces around his hand._

_After coming down from her high, there was a lusty glint to her eyes as she breathlessly announced, "My turn."_

_Then, with a self-assurance she surely wouldn't have possessed in her waking hours, she pushed Oliver into her desk chair, sending it rolling back a little, and straddled him. As she took her time unbuttoning his shirt, he never took his eyes off of her face, his expression one of love and desire. For her, and only her._

_Gently raking her nails down his chiseled torso, she earned a slight growl of pleasure from him, before finally unbuckling his pants and liberating his straining member. She took a moment to stroke his impressive length, making him close his eyes and tilt his head back in ecstasy while soft moans escaped his throat. All the while, she silently admired how 'gifted' he was, surprisingly managing to keep herself from babbling about it._

_Shifting her hands to his shoulders for balance, she then carefully impaled herself on him, and gasped at the sensation of taking him all in. As she gave herself a moment to adjust, Oliver leaned forward and swirled his tongue around her nipples, before kissing a trail back up to her mouth. He recaptured her lips hungrily, and though they began moving together slowly and deliberately, wanting to savor every moment of it, their lovemaking was on fire._

_Finally, as they neared their shared climax, Oliver reached between their bodies, and began stroking her once more, pushing her over the edge. She shuddered violently in release as she called out his name again and again, and with one more thrust, he was joining her over the cliff, growling her name in pleasure several times as he did so. Afterwards, they collapsed together in a breathless heap, her damp forehead resting against his._

Meanwhile, back in the real world, Felicity snuggled deeper into her pillow, a contented smile curving her lips._  
_


End file.
